


The Feathered Koi

by vindice



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Families of Choice, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Multi, Ryuuji-centric, innkeepers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindice/pseuds/vindice
Summary: Ryuuji has a ryokan. Everyone in his make-do family is absolute nuts. His life is good.Admittedly, he could do with some better friendships, but he wouldn’t change them for anything in the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble Collection telling Otogi’s life. Some allusions to plot here and there. It will have angst at some point, but it’s mostly family fluff.

Ryuuji finishes serving the last round of shots for his current charge with a flourish of his wrist. A small bowl filled with lemon slices and salt already waits in the middle of the semi-circle he arranged them in.

“Thanks, Otogi-kun,” Malik’s calm voice drifts easily over the background noise. A small, tired but genuine smile settled on his face.

Ryuuji grins. “No prob, Ishtar. Let’s see who wins this time.”

He watches Malik roll his eyes before turning around. The Egyptian is not fooling anyone; Ryuuji can see him trying to fight down the fond tilt of his lips as his gaze falls onto Marik’s back.

Ryuuji looks in the direction of the small group of people waiting at the end of the counter as well. Someone turned on the jukebox while he wasn’t paying attention and traditional music is now playing a soft rhythm, a soothingly low hum.

Tsuna, probably. No one else is considerate enough to do so.

Bakura has his chin on the cool marble island, his arm pillowing part of his head. A bottle of sake lays empty next to his resting form. Ryou’s hand, the one that isn’t gesturing to Rishid who’s making his way towards them from the other side of the room, alternates between petting his hair and massaging his temples without seemingly putting second thought into it. No doubt trying to assuage his rising headache.

Most clients have already gone to sleep. The kitchen closed at eleven sharp like stated in the contract. The security system has been activated.

Which leaves the staff members free to make drinking contests.

The rules are simple: winner gets to name or create a new drink, and the loser has to do whatever the winner asks for. To Ryuuji’s endless amusement, those requests almost always end up in disaster or despair for whichever outside idiot that has the bad luck of getting caught in the crossfire.

He fetches the tray and makes his way back to the others, paralleling Malik’s path at the other side of the counter. There are empty glasses scattered a little past Bakura, and Rishid moves them aside to make room when he catches sight of them. Ryuuji sets the tray in front of the last survivors standing.

Marik looks nowhere close to drunk but neither does Ryou with that smirk. It’s a sharp thing Ryuuji bets Bakura would be proud of if only he wasn’t wallowing in his misery.

Everyone around them bar Isis are in similar states, even Tsuna and Rishid to a lesser extent. Mai hides her head in the crook of her arm and her shoulders shake as she laughs silently at something Isis says next to her. Or maybe she’s sobbing—he can never tell with her.

Ryuuji breathes in the suffering of his friends, grin widening at the warm feeling settled in his belly.

This, here, feels like home.

“Ready?” He says, his excitement reflected in the expectant expressions of his friends drawing closer. Bakura comes back from the dead only to drum his palms against the island.

There is an edge to Marik’s smirk and Ryou’s orbs have a fierce, hungry glint. Their hands skim through the cool surface and stop bare centimeters from the shots. Their eyes never leave each other’s, seizing up their prey.

“Go!” Ryuuji bangs his fist against the marble.

Both shoot forward and down the first shot as if it is only water.

Ryuuji is being honest when he says he’s looking forward to the results of this particular match.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuuji stands in the middle of the room, frown marring his skin and hands propped on his hips. His right foot starts tapping impatiently against the woodwork of the floor, eyes half-lidded from the scowl.
> 
> “What do you have to say?”

Ryuuji stands in the middle of the room, frown marring his skin and hands propped on his hips. His right foot starts tapping impatiently against the woodwork of the floor, eyes half-lidded from the scowl.

“What do you have to say?”

The place is a mess. A chunk of what used to be a replica of his mom’s favorite chair lays now at the far corner after having been blown to smithereens. The curtains are ripped at the seams. All pictures are face down on the unmade bed. One of the inn’s patterned towels has been completely stained in a black, inky liquid that Ryuuji’s brain is prompting him to touch, the only thing holding him back being his common sense beating his curiosity with a bat.

“I’m sorry we took home a spirit.”

Ryuuji narrows his eyes. Ryou’s smile is a mix of amusement and nervousness. Bakura sulks behind him.

“...Again.” Bakura says, arms crossed, uninterested expression and looking everywhere but at his face.

He sighs.

These boys have no shame.

Ryuuji pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just. Clean this mess.” He gestures with a hand. “This is coming from your Christmas budget. You know that, right?”

He would never do that to them. Ryou beams. He knows that as well.

Asshole.

“Of course.” There’s a small smirk on Bakura’s face. He wants to wipe it off with a punch so bad.

He settles for throwing his hands up in exasperation and turns around. Before he reaches the door, his gaze falls once again on the rings drawn into the floor. The bigger one has four candles marking the cardinal points and there are symbols drawn all around the edges of the smaller circle. Runes, his mind supplies. But they’re not Celtic ones, Ryuuji would know. And they give off a more complex feeling than the ones for a simple spirit call would do. The smaller of the two rings has the equivalent of the beginnings of a crack, for it being chalk.

He can feel his friends’ eyes on his back, trying to read him. Whatever these two had summoned was stronger and messier than they had expected, if it almost succeeded in breaking part of one of Ryou’s magic circles.

With another sigh Ryuuji shakes his head. _Not my problem._ Unless this starts affecting the inn’s prosperity or any of the people currently residing inside, then Bakura and Ryou can do whatever they please for all he cares.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Get rid of anything that any…” Ryuuji tries to find the proper words. “Entity can cling onto and wash your hands properly before going into the kitchen. Tonight you’re staying in the room next to mine.” He’d be damned if he lets them stay in here with the risk of something free to possess them in the air. “You can clean the rest tomorrow.”

And with that, the tension in the room he hadn’t even noticed forming dissolves. He gives them a small genuine smile, receives one from Ryou and flips Bakura back before rolling his eyes and leaving their room.

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Posting something that isn’t either tendershipping, r27, or any of those-centric? I know, I’m amazed too.


End file.
